


Kinktober 2019

by gayunsolved



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Game Grumps, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Anal Plug, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Collars, Costumes, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Everyone Calling Michael A Slut, F/F, FAHC, Formalwear, GTA AU, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Kinbaku, Knife Play, Leather, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Multi, Muscle Worship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, People Being Mean To Michael, Praise Kink, RT Core, Rare Pairings, Riding, Rimming, Rough Sex, Scars, Shibari, Shock Collars, Size Difference, The On The Spot Set, Tights, Trans Male Character, Trans Michael Jones, Verbal Humiliation, Wedding Night, ass worship, trans Matt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 16,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayunsolved/pseuds/gayunsolved
Summary: Nothing says fall like fucking your coworkers and friends.(List of kinks provided by NihilisticShiro on Twitter.)(See Notes for more info!)(Chapter 3 contains Ryan Haywood, but is in the process of being replaced.)





	1. Kiss the Sweat Away (Geoff/Michael-Ass Worship)

**Author's Note:**

> I finally caved and decided to do Kinktober, mostly just to see if I could. The writing is going to be godawful but I'm trying. It will be mostly Rooster Teeth with a dash of other stuff.  
Each chapter will still have a song lyric title (listen, it's my thing), but they will also specify the kink and pairing. Hope you enjoy!  
Yes, it's 2020, yes I'm probably still going to work on finishing this eventually.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Ass Worship!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Ass Worship (Sorry it was posted a little late, my whole computer decided to update on Oct 1)  
Title from Backseat Serenade by All Time Low.

No matter how many times he got to do it, Geoff could never get enough of seeing Michael bent over, ass exposed and ready to be wrecked. It didn’t matter what he was bent over—it could be his desk, the arm of the white couch in the office, the end of their bed, anything—Geoff would still want to take hours just looking at and touching Michael’s beautiful ass. 

On this particular night, Michael had draped himself over the kitchen counter, head resting on his crossed arms and ass pushed out purposefully to draw Geoff’s attention. They had just come home from a dinner party with some of the new RT management, and Michael could practically see the anxiety coming off of Geoff in waves. True to form, Geoff stalked up behind Michael and rested his hands on his waist. 

“You always know just how to calm me down, Michael,” he said with a low chuckle. 

“I do what I can. Plus you’re predictable. I know what you like.” 

Geoff scoffed and swatted lightly at Michael’s ass. Michael jumped slightly, nearly knocking his chin against the granite. Geoff chuckled again before rucking up Michael’s shirt to plant messy, beard burn tinged kisses down his spine, still holding tightly to Michael’s waist. He knew there would be bruises in the shape of his hands for a few days, but if anything that just made him grip harder. When his mouth met the rough fabric of Michael’s jeans, Geoff stepped back for a moment to undo them and pull them, along with his briefs, down to his ankles. Michael made a sound in the back of his throat that was somewhere between frustration and need. He couldn’t see it, but Michael could feel the smirk on Geoff’s face.

“Goddamn,” Geoff breathed out, tattooed hands coming back to rest on Michael’s hips. “I musta done something right to get to fuck an ass this good. Seriously, your ass was crafted by the fucking gods or something.” He touched Michael’s ass with reverence, thumbs smoothing over the milky skin that was dappled with golden freckles. Michael wriggled and squirmed, trying to get more contact, more friction, but Geoff held him still. 

“Come on, Geoff, fuckin’ do something already,” Michael snapped, more desperate than actually irritated. “Don’t spend all night feelin’ me up.” 

“I thought you were doing this to calm me down?”

Michael huffed. “I mean, I am, but seriously, fuckin’ touch me where it matters already!”

“Michael, Michael, Michael,” Geoff scolded. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want in a minute. Be patient. I just wanna show you how much I love this cute ass of yours.” 

Michael grumbled something about Geoff treating him like a baby, which earned him another light swat to his ass. This one stung a little more without the layer of denim between them, but Michael didn’t flinch. Geoff shifted his hands against the heated skin, using his thumbs to slowly draw Michael’s cheeks apart. 

“You know, I love everything about your ass, but god your cute little hole is the best,” Geoff cooed. He planted a kiss right above the cleft of Michael’s ass. “All pink and pretty for me. Look at you, clenching like you want me to fuck you. Is that what you want, baby? You want me to fuck your pretty ass?” 

“Yes! Please, Geoff?”

“I will, but only because you asked so nicely.”


	2. Your Uncivil Tongue (Alfredo/Trevor-Rimming)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Rimming!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Lights Go Down by I Don't Know How But They Found Me.  
I love Alfreyco.

“Fredo, darling? Do you want to explain why you’ve been sending me ass pics at work?” Trevor asked in his best impression of sternness. 

Alfredo grinned. “Okay, so hear me out.” Trevor raised an eyebrow. “You know how I always joke about eating ass in videos? Like, people actually associate me with that shit now.” 

“Right…”

“So I’m trying to get you to eat my ass!”

Trevor felt his face heat up. Even though Alfredo wasn’t usually in control in their sex life, he was always the one to bring new ideas up. And it was usually at work, which Trevor was seriously going to have to talk to him about. 

“Alfredo.”

“What?” Alfredo sounded defensive suddenly.

“You literally could have just asked, babe. You did not need to almost get me fired.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

Trevor shook his head in mock exasperation. “You’re lucky I love you as much as I do.”

\--

With his face buried in the pillow, Alfredo couldn’t hear or see much, so he was forced to focus on the unfamiliar sensation he was feeling. Trevor was kneeling behind him, wiry hands grasping handfuls of his ass and exposing his hole. At first, Trevor had just pressed feather-light kisses all over the sensitive skin, avoiding the little pucker, but after a moment he switched to laving his tongue over it, drawing a muffled whine from Alfredo. When Alfredo had relaxed a little, Trevor dipped just the tip of his tongue into him, teasing and silently telling him to relax further. It took a few minutes for Alfredo to fully relax, and by that time he was already on the brink of orgasm. Trevor’s tongue curled inside him, a feeling that he was sure he could get used to, and spit was dripping down his taint, a nice cool sensation compared to how suffocatingly hot everything else felt. If he hadn’t been completely incapacitated by pleasure, Alfredo would have wondered how the hell Trevor had gotten so good at this. 

“Trevor,” Alfredo said, muffled by the pillow. “Trevor,” he tried again, weakly lifting his head. “I’m close.”

Trevor only ate him out with more fervor, determined to push his boyfriend over the edge with just his mouth. Sure enough, seconds later, Alfredo came all over the bed, nearly blacking out from the intensity of his orgasm. Trevor held him up by his hips, making sure he didn’t actually fall. When Trevor let go, Alfredo rolled over, limbs heavy with pleasure and exhaustion. Trevor flopped down next to him, assuming his usual big spoon position.

“Y’know,” Alfredo mumbled, drawing Trevor from the grasp of sleep. “If this will happen every time I send you ass pics at work, I might have to do it more often.”


	3. Dirty God (FAHC Ryan/Gavin-Knife Play)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Knife Play!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There's some very light blood in this one, but it isn't super graphic. If that's not for you, I totally understand and I love you anyway!  
Title from Legit Tattoo Gun by The Front Bottoms.

“Ryan?” Gavin’s voice was small, a mix between fear and excitement. He could hear nothing but his own breathing and the faint scratch of rope against dry skin as he squirmed. The blindfold draped over his eyes kept him from knowing just where Ryan was. The exhilaration of this lack of knowledge boiled low in his stomach, warming his bare skin with electric need. But even as he adored giving up control like this, there was still a little voice in the back of his head telling him that he could be in real danger. This was _ the Vagabond_, notoriously clever killer and enigma feared all over Los Santos and beyond. He was likely holding a weapon and could easily kill Gavin and slip into the violent underworld of the city. But that nagging voice was quickly dispelled when Gavin felt the cool metal of a knife pulling gently at his lower lip, urging him to open his mouth. He obeyed, letting Ryan rest the flat of the blade on his tongue.

“My sweet Gavin,” Ryan cooed, the sudden sound causing Gavin to suppress a shiver. “Look at you.”

Gavin could only make a strangled sound of want, what with the knife pressed against his tongue. Though he couldn’t see it, he could imagine the cruel smirk gracing Ryan’s features. Slowly, as though gravity alone was acting, Ryan drew the knife from Gavin’s mouth, letting the tip catch on his lower lip. Gavin felt a bubble of blood form and licked it away, grateful to be able to use his mouth again. He opened it to speak but instead it fell into a soft gasp as Ryan traced his jaw with the tip, letting the sharp edge slide dangerously close to the skin. Ryan chuckled dark and low, barely audible, at the sight of Gavin’s cock twitching against his bare stomach.

“My goodness,” Ryan drawled, sweet Georgia honey dripping from every syllable. “My beautiful Golden Boy, are you so easy? Falling apart to what? Just the tip of my knife? Pathetic.”

Gavin’s breath hitched. He couldn’t help it. He was spread thin between negotiations and heists, and no one made that tension dissipate quite like Ryan. Ryan had a way of pulling him apart agonizingly slowly, stripping away the pain and smoothing over the wounds with a salve of pleasure. Right now, all he could focus on was the blunt drag of Ryan’s knife across his collarbone. It wasn’t even the sharp edge, but still he could almost feel the droplets of ruby against his golden skin. Ryan twisted his wrist to draw the sharp edge of the knife in a slow curve down through the hair of Gavin’s chest to rest right above his navel.

“Oh, darling.” Ryan’s voice was barely a whisper now. “My beautiful Gavin. You get off on being marked as mine, don’t you? That’s _ precious_.” Gavin made a strangled sound of agreement as Ryan brought the knife back to rest under his chin. “That’s right, sweet goldfinch, you belong to the Vagabond. Just a sweet little thing with a silver tongue and a taste for steel. Isn’t that right?”

Gavin shuddered, cumming with an embarrassed squeak. He didn’t mean to, but when Ryan got possessive, he really couldn’t help it. He did belong to the Vagabond, and now he had the marks to prove it. 


	4. Smothered In Love (Geoff/Michael-Daddy Kink)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Daddy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I am so sorry I'm so behind on publishing these! My life is a mess but I'm trying!  
Also I'm sorry because this one isn't smut, it's just some good soft Micheoff. Smut will be back next chapter.  
Title from Too Much by All Time Low.

“Michael, wait a second,” Geoff whispered, putting the phone against his chest so Gus couldn’t hear him on the other end. “I need you to hold on a sec, okay?”

“M’kay, Daddy.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Geoff said into the phone, ignoring Michael looking pleadingly up at him. “I can talk to Barb and see if she can stop by.” He paused, listening to what Gus was saying. “Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye.”

Geoff hung up and put the phone next to him on the hotel bed. He looked down at Michael, who had shifted further under the covers and laid his head on Geoff’s stomach. He looked more peaceful than Geoff had ever seen him, big brown eyes still soft with sleep, cupid’s bow lips slightly parted. Geoff slid one tattooed hand into his unruly curls, which he had let grow long. He didn’t pull like he sometimes did, he only watched as Michael leaned into his hand and let his eyes flutter shut.

“Hey, buddy,” Geoff cooed. “You ready to get going?”

Michael shook his head, pouting slightly. “Wanna stay in the room, Daddy. Wanna snuggle.”

Geoff smiled, charmed by how innocent and soft Michael sounded. It wasn’t often that he let himself be this vulnerable, and usually Geoff was the only one who got to see it. On those rare but wonderful occasions, Michael usually just wanted to climb into Geoff’s lap and be his baby doll. And Geoff could hardly complain; he got to have a very cuddly Michael Jones all to himself. Although they actually did have to get up and go to a panel, Geoff figured they could spend a few more minutes in bed and still be on time.

“Just a quick snuggle, alright? We gotta get up soon.”

“But Daddy…”

“Shhh, baby. It will still be a special snuggle, sweetheart. After all, I get to snuggle the cutest little porcelain doll in all of Texas.”

Michael blushed, bringing out all the golden freckles peppering his cheeks. When he was in this headspace, being called a doll was just the best thing. He loved the idea of being handled gently and played with by his Daddy. He let Geoff pull him onto his lap so they could kiss, and purred happily against Geoff’s mouth at the feeling of Geoff’s hands slipping under his shirt to rest on his stomach.

“Hey, Michael?” Geoff had pulled back first, opening his eyes to look at the beautiful boy in front of him.

Michael opened his eyes too after a moment, meeting Geoff’s faded blue with his warm brown.

“Yeah, Daddy?”

“I love you.” He pressed a tiny kiss to Michael’s nose. “I love you so much, baby boy. You’re my little doll, you’re my perfect little Michael.

“Thank...thank you, Daddy,” Michael murmured, wide eyes starting to fill with tears. He looked away, but Geoff brought him back with a gentle finger under his chin.

“It’s okay to cry, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s right here, sweet Michael. Let Daddy make the tears all better. Let me snuggle you close and tell you just how special you are.”

—

So maybe they were a little late for the panel. Okay, a lot late. No one needed to know why.


	5. I'm Going To Love You With My Hands Tied (Miles/Jon-Bondage)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5-Bondage!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory fic where someone fucks on the On The Spot set. It took me way too long to write because my life is a whole mess but here it is. Also I've wanted to write Risingluna for so long so this was a fun one to write. It's so fucking long, I'm sorry. 
> 
> Title from Teeth by Lady Gaga.

For all the times he had joked about fucking on the On the Spot set, Miles had never imagined it would actually happen. But by some incredible twist of fate (and also a lot of convincing Jon), it was really happening. He really had his wrists tied together behind the back of one of the chairs. His legs were actually tied to the chair legs at his ankles and held apart by a spreader bar. He was completely exposed, scooted forward on the seat enough for Jon to access his ass. This was happening. He was very naked on the On the Spot set and he was going to get fucked _ on the spot_. Holy fuck. 

For all his hesitations in the process of getting this to happen, Jon was annoyingly relaxed about the whole thing. He was also annoyingly very dressed, wearing an X-Men tee and a pair of sweats that definitely belonged to Miles. He was just sitting in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, looking over the top of his glasses at Miles. 

“To my right, we have a team who begged me to do this for weeks until I finally gave in,” Jon announced in the most dramatic tone he could muster. “Miles, can you give me a team name?”

Miles was absolutely not having it with this, but given his current position, there wasn’t much he could do. “My team name is ‘Jon I need you to fuck me soon or I’ll actually die,’” Miles said through gritted teeth. And honestly, he meant it. He was harder than he’d been in a long time and the humiliation of being on set in this state was going to his cock rather than his head. 

Jon barked out a laugh, clearly amused by Miles’ desperation. “Let’s get that trending, folks,” he joked. 

“Jon, seriously…”

“Miles, darling, do you have something to say to me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I just...you know what I want.” 

Jon sneered at that. “Do I?”

Miles bit his lip. He was never good at asking for what he wanted. Jon knew that. But Jon also knew that humiliation was one of Miles’ biggest kinks. So maybe it was cruel of him to monopolize on that, but really Miles couldn’t complain. Jon was looking at him expectantly, spinning a pen between two fingers. 

“I...I want you to eat me out,” Miles blurted out. “Please,” he amended hurriedly. Jon liked it when he asked nicely. 

“Mm, see, Miles, it’s not that hard to ask for what you want. 20 points.”

Miles grimaced at Jon’s consistent references to the actual show, but he let the distaste slip from his facial expression when Jon pulled himself over the desk and knelt before him. 

“Why the fuck didn’t I do this sooner? You look so fucking good for me, Miles. You wouldn’t do this with anyone else, right?” Miles nodded. “Say it, sweetheart. Tell me.”

“I wouldn’t, uh...wouldn’t do this for anyone else.”

“Not even Kerry?” Jon asked, getting very close to Miles’ face. 

Miles gulped. “N-not even Kerry, I promise. Please Jon…”

“Jon?”

Miles looked at him quizzically. They never really played with specific names and titles, so he was unsure what Jon was trying to get him to say.

“Did you really not watch the Happy Room?” Jon questioned, looking crestfallen for a second. 

“Right,” Miles said, finally understanding. “I’m sorry, Mr. Risinger, I’ll be good.” 

Jon looked pleased, and shit, Miles kind of liked how that sounded coming out of his mouth, especially considering how Jon was getting a hungry look in his eyes. Jon surged forward after a moment to kiss Miles, licking into his mouth eagerly. They kissed fervently before Jon pulled away and leaned down to mouth at the head of Miles’ cock for a brief moment. Before Miles could say anything, though, he had moved again to kiss the inside of Miles’ left thigh. Miles tried to squirm, to get away from the tickle of Jon’s beard, but he was bound tightly. 

“Mr. Ri-Risinger, please...need...need more,” Miles whined. 

Jon responded by biting at the soft skin, earning a surprised whimper from Miles. He bit down again in a few places, ensuring Miles would have marks to remind him of this for days to come. Miles’ cock was leaking precum at this point; he had reached a level of desperation where he could fall apart with one well placed touch. Jon seemed in no rush to touch him, though. He was mirroring the marks he had left on the other thigh, drawing more pretty sounds from Miles. 

“Miles, baby, look at me.”

“Mm?” Miles looked down at Jon with hazy eyes. He was floating in a state somewhere between desperation and euphoria, just waiting for Jon to give him what he needed. 

“You know I love you.”

“Mmhmm,” Miles hummed, warmed by the sudden show of genuine affection.

“And because I love you,” Jon told him, “I’ll give you what you asked so nicely for.”

“Thank you,” Miles whispered. “Thank you, Mr. Risinger.”

Jon gave a quick smile to Miles before pressing a slow open-mouthed kiss to the juncture of his thigh and hip. Miles jolted but was held fast by the ropes. The kiss morphed into Jon mouthing at the taut skin next to Miles’ hole. When Jon finally laved his tongue over the puckered skin, Miles fully screamed, squeezing his eyes shut with pure ecstasy. Jon smiled as best he could with his mouth open wide as he repeated the motion, getting Miles’ skin wet with spit and scratching it up with his beard. When Miles had relaxed slightly, he dipped the tip of his tongue into his hole, starting to open him up. 

“Hhhngh, Jon, I mean, ugh, Mr. Risinger,” Miles babbled mindlessly, unable to think through the pleasure. “Can I, uh, can I cum, please?”

“Miles,” Jon said, pulling away for a moment to look up at his lover. “M’not going to touch your dick, but if you can cum anyway, you can, alright?”

“Th-thank you, Mr. Risinger!” Miles exclaimed, his voice breaking as Jon went back to rimming him.

Jon held Miles still by his hips, pressing him back into the chair. He dipped his tongue into Miles again and again, loosening his muscles enough to fully tongue-fuck him. Miles was letting out a litany of little whimpers and moans, struggling against the ropes that held him, desperate to touch himself or tangle a hand in Jon’s hair like he usually did. His arms would surely be sore and bruised by the end of this, but it was worth it. Miles tried to focus his eyes on a chair on the other side of the set to regain a little composure but at that moment Jon decided to slip a finger in next to his tongue, and that broke Miles almost immediately. He bucked in Jon’s grasp, gasping and moaning Jon’s name as he came all over his stomach. Jon didn’t stop for another few moments, still mercilessly fucking Miles with his tongue.

“Well,” Jon said as he pulled away, wiping his mouth on the front of his shirt, “I’d give you a good 200 points for that.” 


	6. Show Me A Little Bit Of Spine (FAHC Jon/Michael-Blowjobs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6-Blowjobs!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, I'm insanely behind. But I promise all the kinks will get written, it will just happen over a longer period of time. This story will be continued in a later chapter!! 
> 
> Title from Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy.

Geoff had sent Michael to this specific bar for a reason. He had to track down one of RT Core’s best, and the man was notorious for slinking around in the seedy gay underground scene, someplace Michael never really wanted to be. So here he was, dressed like a club kid, his childish, cherubic features accentuated by a soft pink lipstick and a swipe of glitter on his cheekbones. In his obscenely short shorts and mesh shirt, he looked just like every other boy in the club, barely legal and looking to get drunk, fucked, or both. Only most of them didn’t have a Desert Eagle holstered in the waistband of their shorts. Supposedly, the man in question, known simply as ‘Moonshine,’ was of the other class of men in this bar: gruff and heavy handed, only interested in drinking hard liquor and ruining pretty little boys.   


Michael was sipping a drink bought for him by a handsome man with dark curls pulled back in a bun, watching the men around him move and trying to tease apart drunkenness and cunning in their actions. From what Geoff had told him, Moonshine was especially good at lulling boys into false senses of security before ravaging them and robbing them blind.   


“Hey, sweet thing,” came a voice from behind Michael. He turned around to see the same man who had bought him a drink. He was probably hoping to get Michael drunk and fuck him in the bathroom. Which, well, sounded nice, but Michael was on a mission, and he couldn’t get distracted by attractive men. “You here alone?”

“Sure am,” Michael told him, letting himself get drawn in for a moment against his better judgement. Well, he reasoned with himself, it really couldn’t hurt to fuck around a little, right? Moonshine didn’t seem to be here yet, and there was something about this man that made Michael a little weak in the knees. “You tryna make me less alone?”

The man laughed. “I wouldn’t mind, if you’re offering.” His eyes seemed to flash danger, but Michael was never one to shy away from that.   


“Sure, I’m just killin’ time. D’you have a name?”   


“Call me Sunshine. What about you?”   


Michael sneered. “Michael. And as cute as your little made up name is, I need something a little easier to moan while you fuck me.”

The man calling himself Sunshine had been halfway through taking a sip of his whiskey and had nearly choked at what Michael said. Once he had swallowed his drink, he smiled too wide, showing bright white teeth and then a flash of a tongue stud. Michael lifted his drink to take another sip, but the man surged forward to catch Michael’s lips in a kiss, no doubt smudging his lipstick with the ferocity of it. Michael let Sunshine lick into his mouth, savoring the little metallic click of the piercing against his own teeth. When he pulled away, Michael was out of breath and a little taken aback. For some reason, the immense similarity between Moonshine and Sunshine didn’t seem to click in his head, and he let himself be dragged to a booth in a dark corner of the bar.

“Tell you what,” the man said, voice so low Michael could barely hear it over the music, “I’ll give you a better name to moan if you wrap that pretty little mouth around my dick.”   


“Shit, yeah, okay.”   


Michael was in too deep, sure, but there wasn’t much wrong with messing around a little on missions. Gavin did it all the time. Plus, it wasn’t every day he got a cock down his throat, and from the look of the bulge in Sunshine’s pants, this one was going to be good.   


“Come on, pretty boy.” The man’s voice cut through Michael’s thoughts and grounded him back in the filthy club. “You gonna suck me off or not?”

Michael nodded eagerly and fell to his knees under the table, careful not to hit his head. He gave a saccharine sweet smile to the man looking down at him as he pulled his pants and boxers down to his knees. The man’s cock was beautiful, uncut and thick with neatly trimmed pubic hair at the base. Michael pressed his lips to the underside first, teasing, not taking it in his mouth quite yet. He selfishly thought about how there would be lipstick marks left behind to remind Sunshine of him. Finally, he took just the head of the cock into his mouth, enjoying the weight on his tongue before sinking down as far as he could, letting it hit the back of his throat. Sunshine tangled a calloused hand in Michael’s unruly curls, holding him steady in order to fuck his mouth. Though it was a little rough, Michael handled it well, not gagging as his mouth was used like a toy. He hollowed his cheeks and licked at the vein on the underside of the man’s cock, doing all the things Geoff had taught him how to do. He could feel the effect he was having as the hand in his hair tightened further and the thrusts into his mouth became erratic.   


“You’re so good,” Sunshine growled. “I’m gonna make you taste me.”   


Michael gave a hum in response, the vibrations pushing Sunshine over the edge. He spilled down Michael’s throat, far enough back that Michael barely tasted the bitterness. As he tried to pull away, he felt something cold against his temple.

“Well, well,” a new voice drawled. “Would you look at that. Ramsey really does like the stupid pretty ones.” 


	7. It Ain't My Fault You Keep Turnin' Me On (Lindsay/Fiona-Leather)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7-Leather!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I'm sorry I'm SO behind!!! But hey here's a little lesbian goodness! This will be continued in the next chapter, don't worry!

The second Fiona walked in the office, Lindsay knew she wasn’t getting anything done that day. Despite the Texas heat, Fiona was in a stunning leather-centric ensemble: a white button down shirt, black leather pants, and a pair of dark red leather heeled boots. Her neck was adorned with a thin leather choker. Lindsay had never thought about herself as being into leather, but something about how Fiona was dressed had her squirming in her seat. After flashing a smile at Fiona, Lindsay turned back to her computer, trying her best to focus on the episode of AHWU she was editing. An hour passed, but she hadn’t even finished the one video.   


“Hey, I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” Lindsay said to no one in particular, taking her headphones off and getting up. She stretched her legs and tried to shake off the distraction she was weighed down with. As she walked out of the office, only Fiona looked up to watch her leave.   


Lindsay locked the bathroom door and let out a deep sigh. She had to get work done. This AHWU was set to go up in an hour, and she was still working on it. She couldn’t exactly blame Fiona for the situation, as much as she wanted to. It was her own fault for getting so flustered by it.

“Come on, Jones,” Lindsay muttered to herself, looking in the mirror warily. “Get your shit together. You have a job to do, dammit.” She ran the water for a moment and then splashed some on her face in a cliche attempt to shock herself out of the funk. “Come  _ on _ !”

“Hey,” came Fiona’s voice through the door. Shit. “You okay in there?”   


“Yeah, I’m, uh…” Lindsay’s brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with an excuse as to why she was talking to herself in the bathroom. “I’m good.”   


“Okay, see you back in the office,” Fiona said, though she didn’t sound convinced.   


Lindsay dropped her head against the mirror. She didn’t know how she was going to face Fiona. It was awkward enough that Fiona had heard her, but if she knew that Lindsay was in this fit over her, Lindsay thought the whole world would collapse in on her. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to go back to work. As soon as she stepped out, she was grabbed by the wrist and pressed against the wall of the hallway.   


“Hey,” Fiona murmured as she pressed against Lindsay. Her leather-clad leg was slotted between Lindsay’s legs, keeping her in place. “I know why you’re not focusing.”   


“I…” Lindsay wasn’t sure what to say. Fiona had her pinned, quite literally, and her brain was shorting out. “Sorry.”   


Fiona actually snorted with laughter and Lindsay couldn’t even make eye contact with her. “Why’re you apologizing for getting distracted by me? You think I was dressed like this for no reason? You’re about as clueless as Matt. I’m trying to distract you.”

“Oh…” Lindsay let her mouth fall open. Her gaze was timid as she looked at Fiona. Fiona was smiling, and for a moment she just stared at her, before Fiona leaned in to kiss her gently. Fiona’s lips were softer than Lindsay had thought they’d be when she had definitely  _ not _ fantasized about them, and she tasted like mint gum and lip gloss. Lindsay let herself be pressed up against the wall and kissed breathless. When Fiona finally pulled away, Lindsay was almost dizzy.   


“Tell you what. If you go finish that AHWU, I'll take you out tonight.” 


	8. I Only Want Your Foreign Tongue (Lindsay/Fiona-Tights)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8-Tights!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is a continuation of Day 7!)
> 
> I'm only on day 8 and October is about to end....whoops. It's okay though, because I WILL do all the days, it'll just be a little while. I hope you guys are enjoying it though! Let me know in the comments if you want :)
> 
> Title from An Immigrant by Jon Bellion.

“How much did these cost?” Fiona asked, running a hand over Lindsay’s thigh. They were in the back of Lindsay’s car, with Lindsay propped up against one door and Fiona between her legs.   


“What, the tights? Oh, uh, probably like $5 at Target. Why?”

Fiona didn’t answer. Instead, she dug her fingernails into the fabric at the juncture of Lindsay’s thigh and hip and ripped, the thin cotton tearing easily. She grinned at the soft exhalation of wonder that escaped Lindsay’s lips.   


“I’ll buy you another pair, baby girl, don’t worry,” Fiona told Lindsay.   


“Make it up to me now,” Lindsay replied breathlessly, her pupils blown wide.   


Fiona gave her a devilish grin before rubbing her hand against Lindsay through her underwear. Lindsay gasped and Fiona let out a little huffy laugh. She lowered her head and ran her tongue over the thin fabric, only getting it wetter than it was already becoming. She repeated the action a few times before lifting Lindsay’s hips slightly to pull her underwear down. Lindsay was looking down at Fiona with utter lust and awe, and it only made her want this more. Although the position was hardly comfortable, she leaned down again to lick at Lindsay. Lindsay’s hands found Fiona’s hair and anchored her there as she began to eat Lindsay out. The sounds Lindsay was making only spurred Fiona on as she licked deeper into her, teasing her clit with the tip of her tongue before sucking lightly on it. She brought her left hand up to join her tongue, pressing and rubbing insistently until Lindsay cried out as she climaxed. Fiona didn’t stop though. Instead, she pressed a finger into Lindsay, curling it in and making Lindsay clench around her.   


“Think you can cum again, Linds?”

Lindsay nodded shakily, not opening her eyes. She was sure she could, and with how oversensitive she felt, it probably wouldn’t take long. Fiona added a finger, thrusting them in slowly at first, still working Lindsay over with her clever tongue. Unable to help herself, Lindsay was grinding against Fiona’s face, and pushing herself down on Fiona’s fingers, chasing her second orgasm. With one curl of her fingers, Fiona brought her down again, and delighted in how Lindsay made a mess of her face. Gently, aware of how sensitive Lindsay was, Fiona pulled her fingers out and made a show of licking them clean. Lindsay groaned, opening her eyes to see Fiona do so.   


“I was going to say we could go to Target to replace these tights,” Fiona remarked matter-of-factly, “but you made a bit of a mess of my makeup.”


	9. All Dressed Up And Naked (Miles/Kerry-Costumes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9-Costumes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always a slut for Kerry.
> 
> Title from Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! at the Disco.

“Okay,” Kerry called from the bathroom. “You have to promise not to laugh at me.”  


“Of course,” Miles called back with a laugh. “Come on, baby, lemme see you.”

Kerry stepped gingerly out of the bathroom, still adjusting to how to move in these clothes and afraid to look up at Miles as he sat on their bed. He was all dolled up in a Sailor Moon costume that Miles had bought him for the RT Halloween party and it was unlike anything he’d ever worn. While Miles had known it would be on the skimpier side of things, he was nevertheless blown away by seeing Kerry in it. He looked absolutely stunning. He appeared to still be unsure of himself, hands worrying at the skirt, which was shorter than Miles had expected, falling only a third of the way down Kerry’s thighs. The cropped shirt only covered his chest and left his pale stomach on display. Miles blushed when he realized he had left several very visible hickeys the night before that would now be on display to all of their coworkers. He spotted a few marks he had left on Kerry’s thighs, too, between his skirt and stockings. And Kerry’s legs looked so pretty in the stockings, soft cotton hugging soft curves and making Miles’ mouth water.  


“Is it bad?” Kerry was timid, afraid of why Miles hadn’t yet said anything.  


“What?” Miles looked up at Kerry’s face, seeing a flash of hurt. “No, Kerr bear, you look fucking incredible. I can’t stop looking at you. Seriously, holy shit.”

Kerry blushed deeply, the dark pink of his cheeks matching the bow on the front of his shirt. Miles beckoned him forward to stand between his legs and captured his parted lips in a gentle kiss. Kerry squeaked into the kiss as Miles reached around to grab his ass under the skirt. Miles only smiled against his lips when he realized Kerry wasn’t wearing any underwear.  


“Hey,” Miles murmured as he pulled away slightly.

“Hey,” Kerry echoed, a little dazed. “You like it?”

“Are you kidding? I fucking love it! You’re so pretty for me, baby. If we didn’t have to go to this party, I think I’d make you ride me so I could see your little skirt fly up as you bounce on my dick.”

“Miles!” Kerry was an even darker pink, his eyes slightly unfocused now.  


“Sorry, sorry. But hey, I do have one more little thing to add to the outfit.”

Kerry’s eyes lit up. He loved when Miles gave him gifts, and anything to go with a Sailor Moon costume had to be good. He begrudgingly let Miles pull away from him to reach under the bed for a medium sized powder pink box. Kerry’s mind raced as to what Miles could have gotten him. He thought it could be a crown to make the costume just right, or maybe a wand for him to hold.  


“Well go on,” Miles urged, “open it, Kerr.”

Kerry’s hands trembled slightly as he pulled the lid off the box to reveal [an absolutely beautiful glass dildo](https://www.kinkstasy.com/products/sailor-moon-wand-crystal-glass-dildo-and-anal-plug). It wasn’t too long, but it widened and narrowed a few times and looked like it would keep him so pleasantly full. It wasn’t overly extravagant, though, simply smooth, clear glass, but topped with a pale pink moon that seemed to glimmer in the sunlight coming in through their window. Kerry found himself staring at it in a mix of awe and excitement.  


“You like it?” Miles asked hopefully, echoing Kerry’s earlier tone.  


“Miles, I  _ love it _ .”

Miles’ face split into a grin, so pleased that Kerry liked the gift. “So what do you say we plug you up for the party, baby?”

“Yeah,” Kerry breathed, “I’d like that.” 


	10. And There Will Be No Tenderness (Shane/Ryan-Hate fucking)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10-Hate Fucking!  
(Song of the Chapter: Hatefuck by The Bravery)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate summary: "If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them? If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?"  
I know I'm so behind but I'm trying.  
I realize this seems a little dub-con but I promise it is 100% consensual, they're just angry and horny.  
Title and alt summary from Hatefuck by The Bravery.

“Fuck you!” Shane’s fist connected with the wall less than two inches from Ryan’s face and he delighted in the feeling of the drywall giving. “I hate your fucking guts, you know that? I’m sick of you, Bergara.” He drew the syllables of Ryan’s name out maliciously.

“How the hell do you think I feel about you, then?” Ryan snarled, baring his teeth with contempt. “I’m tired of your stupid, smug face. Fuck off, _ Madej_.”

Shane’s lip curled in a cruel smirk as he looked down at Ryan. There was something so gratifying about getting the little guy riled up just to show him who was really in control. Ryan’s eyes were pitch black in the dim motel room light, but there was a challenge written across his features that Shane couldn’t possibly refuse. It was just adorable the way he tried to draw himself up to seem taller and more intimidating. It was even more adorable when he was so tired after being fucked into the thin mattress that he forgot to fight back. 

“Is it because I wouldn’t play your little game? Your little game where you get all spooked by the wind and I’m supposed to just act like it means something? You have to grow up sometime, Ryan. I’m just trying to make it happen sooner.” 

“You’re goddamn insufferable, you know that?”

Shane sneered, getting up in Ryan’s face. “I do. But you know what else I know? That you want something a little more _ real_. Ghosts can’t make you feel good like I can.” 

Ryan’s expression went darker, then he schooled his features to look unimpressed. Shane disregarded this and surged forward to capture Ryan’s mouth in a sloppy, heated kiss. It was as messy as anything they did, teeth clacking together and lips swollen by the time they pulled apart. Ryan tried to chase Shane’s lips, desperate for more, but Shane pulled back and took a good look at Ryan, debauched as he already looked despite having done almost nothing. 

“Tell you what,” Shane drawled, and Ryan felt his stomach drop. “I’ll fuck you, give you what you want, but I’m not being gentle. Understood?” Ryan nodded, earning him a growl from Shane. “Speak up, bitch.”

“Understood, _ asshole_.” 

Shane grabbed Ryan by the shoulder roughly, spinning him around and throwing him onto the dingy motel bed. As Ryan scrabbled back against the pillows, Shane knelt down on the bed, leaning menacingly over him. Without even being told, Ryan began pulling his own clothes off, hands trembling with a nauseating mix of aggression and lust. Shane did the same, leaving them skin to sweat slick skin. They kissed again, no less messy than the first time and somehow even more aggressive. Shane got one hand around Ryan’s cock, stroking him firmly. His grasp was too tight to actually be enjoyable, but Ryan only got harder in spite of that. 

“There we go,” Shane breathed against Ryan’s jaw as he mouthed at it. “Come on, Bergara, fall apart for me.”

“This isn’t for you, you fucking egomaniac,” Ryan huffed out.

“Egomaniac? That’s a new one. What, did itty baby Ry Ry learn a new word?”

Ryan went to retort but at that moment the fingers of Shane’s other hand brushed against his hole and all words were forgotten. The overstimulation of that sensation colliding with the pain-pleasure mixture coming from Shane’s strokes threatened to overtake him completely. Shane was mouthing down Ryan’s neck and over his shoulders as he teased his clenched hole. Had he not been nearly blind and completely dizzy with pleasure, Ryan would have wondered how Shane was managing to balance himself. But his mind was devoid of any coherent thought, instead brimming with molten lust, spilling need like warm blood. It only got worse as Shane lifted a hand to Ryan’s mouth, pressing his fingers to Ryan’s lips. Ryan knew what to do, immediately taking the fingers in his mouth, slicking them up, knowing that Shane would soon be dipping them inside him. He thought about biting the fingers he was given, just to show Shane that he wasn’t going without a fight, but they were gone as soon as they were there. 

“You were gonna bite me,” Shane said matter-of-factly, acting as though his fingers weren’t back teasing at Ryan’s hole. “You’re a little bitch.” He didn’t sound angry, just observant, as if he was reading from a page. 

“Yeah, but I’m your little bitch, aren’t I?” Ryan retorted breathlessly. 

“What happened to the whole ‘I hate you, Shane’ thing, huh? Where’s Ryan ‘I’m tired of your shit’ Bergara now? Begging me to fuck him?” The low laugh that accompanied his words made Ryan’s body jolt. “Cute little scaredy-cat Ryan. All twisted up in my trap. I got you right in the palm of my dirty hand, huh? You gonna beg for me?”

“Fuck you,” Ryan spat, back to trying to deny how badly he wanted this. 

“Aw, don’t be mean,” Shane sneered, still stroking Ryan, feeling him try to squirm away. “You’re awful hard to be trying to get out of this. You’re difficult, Bergara. But I like the fight. Come on, give me a little plea. Just a little one. Just a little ‘Shane please’ and I’ll give you what you need.”

Ryan tried to muster a good comeback, but at that moment Shane twisted his wrist in just the right way and Ryan came all over Shane’s hand. His face flushed a deep red, eyes immediately brimming with tears. Shane laughed, a little shocked but very pleased. 

“Oh. Well, that makes this much easier, doesn’t it? Yes, I think so. Bet you're just _so_ ashamed of yourself. Come on, baby, it's okay, just lay back and I’ll make you believe in something new.”


	11. That's How I Know You Are The One (Cole/Jordan-Formal Clothes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 11- Formal Clothes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so long I just got carried away! I really love farmboy!Cole and cityboy!Jordan, a pairing my lovely partner Kass and I talk a lot about. Anyway, I swear someday I'll finish Kinktober. Hopefully by next October!  
Title from The One by Kodaline.

“How do you wanna do this?” Jordan asked breathlessly, lips still barely an inch from Cole’s. 

“It’s your wedding night, baby, why don’t you choose?” Cole replied with a breathy laugh. His gaze was soft as he looked at Jordan, still in his beautiful suit. It seemed he would never stop falling deeper in love with him. 

“I don’t think that logic works if it’s my wedding to you.”

Cole chuckled. It was still novel to him, being married to Jordan._ Getting to be _ married to Jordan, the most wonderful man he had ever met. Getting to call Jordan his husband. The wedding hadn’t been anything extravagant, but it had still been better than he could have ever imagined, getting to marry the love of his life. And now he got to have Jordan in his lap, asking to be fucked on the perfect bed of the honeymoon suite. Cole had been blessed to fuck Jordan before, sure, but still. Having Jordan Christopher Cwierz, his _ husband_, begging for him gave him a new rush of affection and lust. 

“I still want to do what you want,” he replied finally. “I like hearing you ask for things.”

“Oh,” Jordan said softly, barely audible. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Cole pressed a kiss to Jordan’s nose, then one to his forehead, then one on either side of his mouth. “Come on, tell me what you want.” 

“Can I ride you?”

Cole’s face lit up. He leaned back in to kiss Jordan, this time heavier than before, their lips sliding together as Cole helped Jordan to take his jacket off. They stayed connected as Cole fumbled with Jordan’s bowtie and shirt, only pulling apart so Jordan could shrug off the shirt. (He tried not to think about how much this suit had cost as he threw it on the floor.) Cole pulled back further to set Jordan against the pillows at the headboard so he could look at him better. Jordan was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. His chest was dusted with golden hair, getting darker as it trailed down his stomach. He was just the right balance of soft and slender, his ribs protruded slightly but his stomach was still soft under Cole’s reverent touch. Jordan’s eyes fluttered shut as Cole touched him. Cole’s fingertips, still calloused from a childhood of farm work, barely skimmed over Jordan’s skin, but even the scarce contact sent pleasant shudders through Jordan.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Jordan,” Cole hummed, one hand loosely gripping Jordan’s hip and the other cupping his cheek. “I’m the luckiest man alive. I love you so much, Jordan Cwierz. I never want to stop looking at you.”

“I love you too. Morgan Nicholas Gallian.”

“Hey, watch it with the real name,” Cole interjected, though it was playful rather than actually annoyed.

“Cole. Cole, baby, c’mon, I love you so much, but I really need you right now.” 

“Patience, let me look at you, okay?” Cole didn’t wait for an answer. He simply leaned down to press feather light kisses all over Jordan’s chest and stomach, murmuring praise as he felt his husband shift and squirm. Cole trailed scratchy kisses across Jordan’s collarbones, down his right arm and back up, and then down his left. He paused to focus on the jut of Jordan’s wrist bone, nipping at it slightly before pressing his lips to the palm of Jordan’s hand. He silently admired how growing up in the city had left the skin smooth and soft. After a moment he moved to admire the simple but beautiful wedding band he had been blessed to put on Jordan’s finger. 

“I can’t believe how lucky I am. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Jordan.”

“You’re not as lucky as I am, though. I get to have _ you _.” 

The two shared a crystalline moment of love before Cole pressed a last kiss to the tender skin of Jordan’s inner wrist and moved to undo his suit pants. 

“You mean to tell me you’ve been wearing _ my _underwear during our entire wedding?” Cole asked incredulously, pulling at the waistband to snap it against Jordan’s hip. Jordan let out a soft groan. “You’re lucky I love you so much. Thief.” 

Jordan flushed and looked away. Cole huffed out a laugh and pulled the boxers down, letting Jordan’s cock free in the cool air of the room. Jordan whimpered, just loud enough that it reached Cole. Instead of touching him, though, Cole started scattering more kisses over Jordan’s pretty thighs. Jordan bucked up into his touch, but Cole used one hand to easily hold him still. Jordan didn’t have to wait long, though; Cole brought his other hand to tease at Jordan’s puckered hole. His long fingers danced over the skin slowly and Jordan nearly screamed. Cole pulled back for a moment, reached to the bedside table where he had set a bottle of lube earlier, and then came back to slick up two fingers and press insistently at Jordan’s hole. Jordan mewled, a delicious sound. 

“I love you,” Cole kept repeating as he worked one and then two fingers into his husband. Jordan was rapidly falling apart, naked and squirming, while Cole was still fully dressed in his wedding suit, hands anchoring Jordan to reality. “I love every part of you, I love you inside and out, I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

“Cole..._ please_…” was the only thing Jordan could respond with as Cole stretched him out with another finger. 

“Are you ready, baby boy?”

“Please?” Jordan’s voice was cracking and dripping with need. 

“Okay, okay. C’mere,” Cole said, pulling Jordan up into a languid kiss. Jordan was already breathless, all his muscles clenching and relaxing with desperation. Cole maneuvered Jordan so that he was sitting on Cole’s hips as Cole leaned back against the headboard. Realizing that Cole needed to take his pants off, Jordan shakily lifted himself up. Cole fumbled slightly before pulling his pants down just enough to pull himself out. When he reached over to the table to grab a condom, however, Jordan grabbed his wrist.

“Can...can we try without it? We’re both clean. We’re married now.”

Cole’s eyes got dark and he nodded. Slicking himself up, he wasted no time pulling Jordan down onto his cock. Jordan gave a full throated scream of pleasure as he was filled completely within an instant. Cole hushed him with a kiss, giving him a moment to get used to the feeling. When Jordan bit his lip and nodded, Cole lifted him up by his hips and let him sink back down at his own pace. After a few minutes of experimental pacing, the two worked up a rhythm with Jordan lifting himself part of the way up and Cole doing the rest before pulling him down quickly to hit his swollen prostate each time. Jordan’s eyes were squeezed shut, mouth fallen open and drool dampening his beard. Cole couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful man who was clenching so wonderfully around him. The love of his life, his husband, his Jordan. 

“God, I fucking love you so much, Jordan, you’re so tight, so good,” Cole babbled. Jordan was too far gone to even speak, so he just let Cole praise him uninterrupted. “Come on, baby boy, want you to cum for me, want to feel you clenching around me. Want to cum inside you, can I do that?” 

Jordan was letting out a litany of little grunts and moans, but he was silent for a moment before nodding vigorously. Cole pulled Jordan down into a kiss before slamming his hips up especially roughly. Jordan curled forward, clearly reaching the edge of orgasm. So a moment later, when Cole wrapped one large hand around his cock, he let out a howl of pleasure and released all over Cole’s hand. Cole wiped his hand on the sheets before going back to holding Jordan up as he clenched and whined with overstimulation. The rhythm became erratic and before long Cole held Jordan down so that he was fully seated on his cock, spilling inside Jordan with a soft series of swears. Jordan had never had someone cum inside of him and he reveled in the new and wonderful experience. It felt a little weird, but he found himself making a mental note to let Cole do that more often. 

“We’re really married now,” Jordan mused after a moment. 

“Yeah, we are,” replied Cole. “Let’s clean up and cuddle, okay?”

“Okay. I call little spoon.”

Cole smiled peacefully and pulled slowly out of Jordan, aware of how sore Jordan was sure to be. Jordan immediately clenched his hole, desperate not to leak. Cole watched with fascination as Jordan tried and failed to keep it all in. Despite his efforts, cum dripped down his thighs and onto Cole’s suit pants. 

Jordan practically squeaked. “Shit! I’m sorry! Do you know how much those pants cost?!” 

Cole gave him a lazy smile. “Don’t worry, babe. It was worth it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jordan Gallian does have a nice ring to it...


	12. Take A Bite Of My Heart Tonight (FAHC Matt/Jeremy-Biting)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 12-Biting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trans!Myatt time!!! This is a super super short chapter after the mess of last chapter, sorry! Anyway I'm doing my best!! Please let me know what you think of all of it :) 
> 
> Title from Animal by Neon Trees.
> 
> Masculine terminology used for Matt, based on what I, as a trans person, am comfortable and familiar with. Sorry if that's not your cup of tea, I love and respect you anyway.

Rimmy Tim was a force of chaos, loud and brash and oh so powerful. He knew Los Santos like the back of his hand and could pull off any heist. But when it came to Matt, he took everything slow, taking him apart with carefully placed bites. 

“C’mon, Jeremy,” Matt said breathlessly, sprawled on a safehouse couch one night after a heist. “Give me what I want.” 

Jeremy responded by biting down at the soft jut of Matt’s hip, exposed as he started to ease Matt’s pants down his thighs. When he was satisfied with the mark starting to form there, he kissed a path from one hipbone to the other. Matt whimpered, one hand reflexively reaching out to touch Jeremy. Now Jeremy’s teeth were set at the juncture of Matt’s hip and thigh, not biting down quite yet, just testing the give of the skin. 

Matt pushed Jeremy’s hat to the side so he could see his face and Jeremy bit down all at once, drawing a low whine from Matt. He felt the skin begin to break and pulled away, tongue laving over the deep grooves left by his teeth. He loved the idea of leaving marks so undeniably his that Matt couldn’t pretend they came from anyone else. He knew, too, that Matt liked to press his fingers into the bites and bruises when he was lonely and imagining that Jeremy was still there with him. 

“Jeremy,” Matt groaned, mouth falling open in a silent moan. “_Now_.”

“You can wait through a whole heist with your eye on a computer, but not for two minutes right now?” Jeremy asked coolly. He kissed over several old bite marks that decorated the inside of Matt’s thick thighs as he spread them, savoring the impatience in Matt’s noises. “At least say please.”

“_Please_, Jer,” he gritted out with mild annoyance. “Anything _ else _you want me to say?”

Jeremy didn’t answer, instead biting down one last time on the tender skin of Matt’s thigh before focusing his attention on spreading Matt open with his thumbs and licking at the underside of his dick oh-so-slowly, tongue collecting the slick he found there. Matt’s hand tightened reflexively around a handful of Jeremy’s jacket and Jeremy smiled to himself at the way he got to make this beautiful and brilliant man so vulnerable. He took Matt’s cock into his mouth, sucking harshly as he rubbed one thumb over Matt’s hole, relishing in the way Matt’s body jerked under his touch. He repeated the movement, teasingly slow, again and again until Matt poked at Jeremy’s side roughly with his foot. 

“Jeremy. I need you to fuck me, now.”

“Okay, okay.” Jeremy rubbed his thumb over Matt’s dick absentmindedly, ignoring the warning nudge. “You are insatiable.” 

And to think, all it took was a few bites to make the best hacker in Los Santos beg.


	13. Now Shut Your Dirty Mouth (FAHC Michael/Jeremy-Dirty Talk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13-Dirty Talk!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rewrite because, well, y'know. Hope you enjoy nonetheless!   
Title from Choke by I Don't Know How But They Found Me.

“You’re a dirty little slut,” Jeremy whispered into the heated skin of Michael’s neck as he pushed him up against the bumper of his car. “This city’s so afraid of you, but you’re not so dangerous when you’re under me, are you?” 

Michael shook his head, a shiver running through his body. Jeremy sneered, pressing a hand to the small of Michael’s back, forcing him face down onto the purple hood of the car. Jeremy pulled Michael’s hips towards himself, forcing him to arch his back so their hips would be level. Jeremy ground his hips against Michael’s denim clad ass slowly, teasing. Michael tried to lean into it, but was quickly thwarted by a gloved hand gripping his hip threateningly. 

“You’re  _ so _ easy for it, Michael. Imagine the Los Santos Police knowing that one of the most fearsome Fakes is just a cock slut. It would ruin you, wouldn’t it?” He chuckled lowly when Michael shuddered. “But you like being ruined, don’t you?”

“Mmhm,” Michael hummed, afraid that his voice would give away his desperation if he said anything more. 

“You’re so pretty, you know. My pretty little slut, my Michael. Can’t wait to take you right here in my garage. Everyone’s heard you scream outta rage, but only  _ I _ get to hear you scream my name. And it’s gonna echo so fuckin’ pretty.” 

Though Jeremy couldn’t see it, Michael’s eyes were close to rolling back in his head, body seemingly aflame with the filthy words and cock straining against the warm metal of the car. His legs were shaking with need and his skin was hot all over. He would never admit to the rest of the crew, but there was something liberating about letting someone else be the brash one, about being taken down a notch after a heist. And well, Jeremy was awfully good at doing just that.

“Now,” Jeremy thought aloud. “How best to take you apart today? Maybe I should keep you bent over the hood of my car while I open you up with my fingers? Or maybe I’ll just use my mouth, eat you out or suck you off? Bet you’d just  _ love  _ that.” Michael let out a rumbling moan. “Yeah, you want that, buddy? You just love when I get my mouth on you. But then how am I supposed to use my words to take you apart, huh?”

“Jer,” Michael pleaded breathlessly, though he wasn’t quite sure what he was pleading for. “I’m…”

“That’s right. You’re so weak for dirty talk that you’re already about to cum in your pants like a teenager. Tell you what, if you can cum without me touching you, I’ll let you choose what I do to you.”

Michael groaned, but with a few thrusts of his hips against the car, aided by the filth Jeremy was whispering to him that echoed all around him, he let go and felt his pants get uncomfortably sticky. Jeremy smiled. This would be fun.


	14. Your Pretty Face and Electric Soul (Matt/Jeremy-Praise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 14-Praise Kink!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ it's February. Time flies. But I'm not quitting, I WILL finish this goddamn Kinktober even if it kills me. Hope you enjoy this short chapter. It's not as much praise as I usually do, so if you're looking for heavier praise, read some of my other Jerematt stuff!
> 
> Title from Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Jeremy beamed, wrapping his arms around Matt’s stomach. Matt startled for a second before smiling gently. 

“Hey, Jer.” Matt finished pulling his shirt over his head. “Not nice to sneak up on me when I’m not wearing my glasses.”

“Sorry,” Jeremy said with no hint of regret. “I just saw your pretty body and had to come tell you how beautiful you are.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Matt scoffed, leaning back into Jeremy’s touch. “What do you want?”

“I already said it, I wanna come tell my incredible boyfriend how much I love him. Is that allowed? What, am I suddenly not allowed to fuckin’ drown you in love?”

Jeremy felt Matt’s soft stomach shake with quiet laughter. Matt managed to turn himself around and leaned down to press a gentle, beardy kiss to Jeremy’s forehead. He then rested his forearms on Jeremy’s shoulders and met his lips in another gentle kiss. 

“Your lips are so perfect,” Jeremy whispered, barely an inch from Matt’s face, close enough that Matt could feel his breath. “Just wanna kiss you all day.”

“You can, but not today, ‘cause we have work.”

“Fine, but you better expect to be attacked with kisses when we get home.”

Matt scrunched up his nose with mock disgust and kissed Jeremy again. Jeremy hummed into the kiss and it made Matt laugh against Jeremy’s mouth. Though he knew they would have to leave soon, Jeremy rucked up Matt’s oversized shirt in the back with one hand and ran his palm down Matt’s lower back to gently squeeze his ass. 

“Jer,” Matt breathed, pulling away from Jeremy’s mouth but leaning into his touch. “We have work, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeremy muttered, still squeezing Matt’s ass through his jeans. He ducked his head down slightly to kiss at Matt’s neck.

“Jeremy, seriously. We have a stream in an hour. We gotta....” Matt trailed off, chuckling at the tickle of Jeremy’s beard against his Adam’s apple. “We gotta....” he tried again but once more trailed off as Jeremy brought his other hand back around to undo Matt’s jeans, so used to the action that he no longer even fumbled. 

“We can just tell Trev there was traffic, alright?”

Jeremy barked out a quick laugh and Matt relaxed against him, eased by the familiar sound. They had done this so many times that their rhythm was easy. Jeremy mouthed at Matt’s neck, Matt whimpered and squirmed, Jeremy touched Matt through his boxers. It was all just muscle memory, the best kind. Matt pulled Jeremy back up into a kiss, Jeremy pulled his hand out of Matt’s jeans to tangle it in his hair, Matt smiled into the kiss. It was all habit, all them, all good. For several minutes they lost themselves in the comfortable intimacy, the rest of the world slipping away under soft hands and quiet praises. 

“Okay,” Matt murmured, finally pulling away. Jeremy’s hand had wandered back into Matt’s underwear, stroking him slowly and sweetly. As much as Matt was enjoying things, they really did need to be at work in less than an hour. “I cannot believe I let you distract me and nearly make me have to change again. You’re ridiculous.” 

“Yeah, but you love it. Have I told you today how pretty you are?”

Matt snorted. “Maybe once or twice or a thousand times.”

“Well you are. My pretty Matt. Just so beautiful, if only I could keep you here all day and just look at you forever. I just can’t get enough.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matt repeated, though there was a noticeable flush to his cheeks. “Get your hand out of my pants, it’s time for work.” 

Jeremy made a face but did as Matt said. “To be continued, pretty boy.” 


	15. I Like The Way You Pull My Hair (Dan/Arin-Hair Pulling)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 15-Hair pulling!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Writing Game Grumps? It's more likely than you think. Bottom Dan for the soul, baby!!   
Also I apologize because it's short and the ending is sort of disappointing. I'm tryyyyying. 
> 
> Title from Rude Boy by Rihanna.

“Arin,” Dan growled, “need you to be rough with me. Stop being gentle.” 

“You wanna be manhandled, Dan?” Arin asked, a little breathless. He didn’t stop curling his fingers inside of Dan as he fixed him with an intense look. “‘Course you do, baby. You want me to fuck you nice and rough?”

Dan seemed to melt and lose his toughness. “Don’t want it,  _ need  _ it. Now.”

“Okay, baby girl,” Arin huffed. “You’re really just so fuckin’ needy. Like you can’t even wait for my dick to be in you. Let me just stretch you for another minute.”

Dan made a noise of annoyance and pushed back onto Arin’s fingers. The way his mouth fell open when Arin’s fingers pressed against his prostate was nothing short of obscene. Though he was bratty and impatient, Dan did know that Arin was right about needing to be stretched more. After an excruciatingly long minute, Arin gently pulled his fingers from Dan’s hole, teasing at his sensitive rim as he did so. Wiping his hand on his own thigh, Arin roughly flipped Dan over so that he could position himself on his hands and knees. Almost immediately, Dan pushed his ass towards Arin, arching his back to show off and get what he wanted. He didn’t have much of an ass, honestly, but Arin didn’t mind. He liked how Dan’s slender body fit so well against his own stronger one. He especially liked to drape his body over Dan’s as he fucked him, something he was hoping to do tonight. 

“Arin?”

“Yes, baby?” Arin replied, pulling himself back to the moment.

“Are you gonna fuck me, or are you just going to stare at me?” 

“Shut your whore mouth. I’ll fuck you alright. I’ll fuck you until you’re seeing stars.”

“More like seeing Starbombs,” Dan retorted, some of the edge of his arousal having been taken off by the pause in the action. 

Arin laughed, loud and sudden, before sobering up and playfully shoving at Dan’s hip, nearly causing him to overbalance and topple. As Dan steadied himself again, Arin grabbed a condom and a bottle of lube from where he had placed them on the bed. He wasted no time rolling the condom on and lubing himself up. 

“You wanted me to be rough,” he reminded Dan. “You ready?” 

“Always ready.”

ᅀᅀᅀ

“Feel good?” Arin grunted. He had worked up a punishing rhythm, slamming into Dan and draped over his sweat-slick back, kissing and biting at his shoulders. He felt himself getting dangerously close to orgasm, and he wanted to make sure Dan was nearing the same point.

“Yeah, Ar,” Dan gasped between moans. “Can...can you pull my hair?”

“What’d you say?” Arin asked, having heard him loud and clear.

“Pull my hair, Arin.” 

“Yeah? You want it?”

Dan nodded vigorously. Arin grinned, tangling his right hand in Dan’s unruly, sweat-damp hair. The coils curled around his fingers in a satisfying way, making him pause for a moment to admire it. Before long, though, he pulled Dan’s head back sharply, drawing a long whine from him. 

“ _ Shit _ , that’s so fuckin’ good, Ar-”

“Yeah? Are you gonna cum just from me pulling your fuckin’ hair, Dan?”

Dan didn’t answer, he just shifted his head away from Arin to get him to pull his hair again. True to form, Arin did so, simultaneously slamming his hips against Dan’s ass. Dan came with a hoarse cry, having been so overstimulated without the added wonder of his hair being pulled. Though Arin couldn’t see it, Dan was flushed from his face down his chest. With a few more thrusts, Arin came too, biting down on Dan’s shoulder. 

“Fuck, we gotta do that more often.” 


	16. You Can Look, But Don't Touch (Miles/Cole-Shibari)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 16-Shibari!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. I had so so so much fun researching and writing this chapter. It's pretty short and the ending is a bit anticlimactic but it's still a fun one. And yes I know it's more like kinbaku than shibari, but it's meant to be a mix thereof.  
For each of the designs/rope types mentioned, it will link to a reference.  
Title from the wonderful song Big Cat by Wild Beasts.  
Dedicated to my battle buddy.   
Enjoy!

“Okay, now try to move,” Miles declared, finishing the knot he had been tying at Cole’s ankles. 

Cole squirmed, trying unsuccessfully to pull his legs apart. The rope wouldn’t even give more than a quarter inch. Miles grinned, admiring his handiwork. Cole’s long legs were bound together [mermaid-style](https://i.redd.it/yph0758qnhz31.jpg) with a [carmine jute rope](https://kaminawa.jp/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/%E8%B5%A4%E8%89%B2%E6%9C%AC%E5%BA%97%E7%94%A8.jpg) that Mile’s had gotten him for his birthday. [A stardust harness](https://www.theduchy.com/stardust-harness/) adorned his chest and connected to a [dragonfly armbinder](https://farm8.static.flickr.com/7789/17090025053_23a1919ba7.jpg) that held his arms taut against his back, both done in [black jute rope](https://i.etsystatic.com/14289821/r/il/134c91/1630365420/il_570xN.1630365420_gg4r.jpg). All trussed up like this, Cole was completely under Miles’ control, just the way he liked it. 

“Holy shit,” Miles commented, ever the eloquent man, running a hand over the set of knots aligned with Cole’s spine. Cole jolted at the rub of rope against his over-sensitive skin, nearly toppling himself over without the ability to catch or steady himself. “You like it?” 

Cole nodded vigorously, his eyes lighting up. “I love it,” he whispered. “Do I look pretty?”

“You sure as hell do, baby. You’re just about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. All tied up just for me. Shit, Cole. Thank you for letting me do this.”

“Are you kidding? This is for me just as much as it is for you.”

Though that wasn’t entirely true–shibari was much more a Miles thing–Cole  _ was _ thoroughly enjoying letting Miles tie him up in pretty designs, and there  _ was _ something really nice about being entirely at Miles’ will. And besides, anything was worth it to see the way Miles got when he was so focused and aroused. Cole just couldn’t get enough of the furrow of Miles’ brow when he looked at different knot types, the way he stuck just the tip of his tongue out when he was tying different designs, the obviousness of Miles’ erection as he looked over Cole as he rested bound on their bed. Tonight, Miles had tried new and fascinating designs, meaning Cole had spent a long time staying very still and letting Miles work around him. But clearly, it was worth it, because he could see how turned on Miles was, and he himself couldn’t focus on much of anything with just how badly he needed to be touched. 

“Miles,” Cole whined, “Miles, please.”

“Please what?” Miles asked, now sitting on the bed next to Cole.

“Touch me?”

Miles had intentionally left Cole’s cock free of any bindings and it lay hard against his hip. Miles noted how well the needy flush of his skin matched the rope, but chose to keep that to himself. Before doing anything else, Miles built up a sort of mountain with pillows and guided Cole to lean against it for stability. He then leaned in to kiss him, sweet and unhurried. The scratch of their beards against each other was familiar and perfect, grounding Cole even as he felt he could fly. When Miles pulled away, Cole instinctively tried to lift his arms to pull him back in, but was, of course, thwarted by the secure knots of jute. Miles chuckled, leaning in for another quick kiss and wrapping a hand around Cole’s cock. The roughness of Miles’ palm when he stroked upwards sent a shudder through Cole’s body, so Miles took his hand away apologetically to spit in it before returning it to Cole’s flushed skin. Cole’s mouth dropped open into a quiet groan. Miles worked up a languid rhythm, with each stroke of his hand drawing a whine from Cole. The flush that spread down his chest from his face was beautifully criss-crossed with black rope. 

“God, Cole, I just...you look so good. Would you let me tie you up again, a different way?”

Cole nodded, eyes half lidded and unfocused. “I’m yours, Miles. You can do whatever you want.” 


	17. Love In The Middle Of A Firefight (FAHC Michael/Everyone-Scars)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 17-Scars!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate summary: Counting the stars and scars, how I'm becoming a work of art. 
> 
> This one took a while but I really like how it ended up! It's not super long but I looked at a lot of wound reference and weapon lists so like...I'm trying. 
> 
> I'm back at it with projecting! This chapter features trans!Michael (prominent) and trans!Jack (only mentioned). Masculine terminology for genitals is used for Michael, based on what I find comfortable as a trans person. Apologies if that's not your cup of tea! 
> 
> Title from Love In The Middle Of A Firefight by Dillon Francis and Brendon Urie.  
Alternative summary from The Divine Zero by Pierce the Veil. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“You’re so beautiful,” Gavin cooed, rough hands wandering over Michael’s bare chest, fingers splaying over the faded scars there, smoothing away the memories. “Our beautiful Michael.”

“So beautiful,” Geoff agreed, looking up at Michael from between his lush thighs with adoration. His eyes were bright and his face was soft with love. “Isn’t that right, Rimmy?”

Jeremy hummed in agreement, mouth too busy nipping at Michael’s neck and shoulders to say anything. Michael squirmed and whined, but he was trapped between the different members of the crew, all of whom were hellbent on making him feel beautiful. It had been one of those days where even blowing up a thousand buildings couldn’t quell the feeling of inadequacy building in his chest. But Gavin, bless his stupid British soul, could sense when Michael was feeling this way, and soon enough, here they were. Michael was propped up with his back against Jeremy’s chest, Trevor running his hands through Michael’s hair, Gavin touching him gently, Geoff putting his powerful tongue to good use eating Michael out, and Jack and Alfredo in the penthouse kitchen making some good old New Jersey comfort food. 

“Hey, Geoff?” Jeremy piped up.

“Mmhmm?”

“Do you remember how Michael got this one?” he asked, delicately tracing a long scar that wrapped around the left side of Michael’s stomach. 

“Yeah,” Geoff reminisced, a soft smile gracing his features. “That was the time he jumped in front of a rogue gunman to save Alfredo’s ass while he sniped down their gang leader. If he hadn’t done it, we’d have lost our best shot.”

“You saved my husband,” Trevor added as Geoff went back to taking Michael apart with his tongue. “Brave, beautiful Michael.” He ran his thumb over a faint scar through Michael’s eyebrow, wiping away a tear that was forming below as he did so. “What about this one?” 

“I know it,” Gavin interjected with a grin. “That’s from my Michael getting in a knife fight with a bastard cop who tried to send me back home. If It wasn’t for you, Michael,” he said, hand coming to rest on Michael’s stomach, “I’d be back in Britain, in trouble with MI5, MI6, _ and _ the NCA. But you fought ‘im off.” 

“Let me tell the story behind this one,” Jeremy interjected, pulling away from the bruise he was sucking right below Michael’s pulse point and tracing his index finger over the edge of a puckered, fading patch of scar tissue on Michael’s shoulder blade. “If I remember correctly, Michael stood his ground when Core had people throwing Molotovs and caught a chunk of hot glass in the back. It’s a miracle Kent could patch him up.”

“We thought we’d lost you, Michael,” Geoff reprimanded lovingly. “You really need to take care of yourself, buddy.”

“Why...why are you doing this?” Michael asked quietly, tears rolling hot down his cheeks. “I don’t...I just don’t understand.”

“Michael, Michael, Michael. Baby, we all love you so much,” Gavin told him. “We love you for everything you’ve done, for everything you are. You need to know that.”

“You are perfect, Michael,” Geoff continued. “Even with all your battle scars. _ Especially _ with all your battle scars.”

Geoff returned to the task he had been doing, taking Michael apart with his tongue. He sucked lightly on Michael's dick, causing Michael to shudder and gasp as a gentle orgasm rocked through him. His cheeks flushed redder than before and his tears kept falling. 

“Aw, Michael, hey, it’s okay. We’re all here. Take a deep breath,” Trevor said, taking Michael’s hand in his own, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. 

“We’ve gotcha,” Jeremy agreed, pressing a kiss into the sweaty curls sticking to Michael’s forehead. 

“D’you wanna take a shower, buddy?” Geoff asked, looking at Michael from between his thighs with unadulterated love as he slowly blinked his eyes open.

Michael shook his head petulantly. “Don’t wanna.” 

Geoff narrowed his eyes disapprovingly but left it at that. The rest of them shifted to cuddle around Michael, with Gavin grabbing a blanket and pulling it over the crew before flopping down next to Geoff. 

ᅀᅀᅀ

When Jack walked into the room, she was met with a tangled pile of boys, mostly asleep. She smiled fondly. 

“Wake up, you sleepy fuckers, I made sloppy joes.”


	18. You Have No Clue How Gorgeous You Are (Blaine/Jon-Muscle Worship)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 18-Muscle Worship! (but not the way you'd think)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks it's been a hot minute because my bitch ass has been busy as fuck but I'm back and scrambling to finish this kinktober before October 2020. This chapter's not my best and is basically just more praise kink stuff but I'm getting back in the groove.   
Title from Swimming in the Moonlight by Bad Suns.   
Enjoy!

Blaine’s broad palms were warm as they slid down Jon’s sweat-slick back. His fingers found the familiar divet of Jon’s hips, holding there as Jon arched towards him, desperate for more. From this angle, Blaine had the perfect view of the muscles in Jon’s back shifting and straining under the skin, and of the way Jon’s body took him in so well, his hole stretched almost obscenely wide as Blaine eased into him. 

“You’re going too slow,” Jon hissed. “I want to go for a run later, hurry up.”

Blaine snorted. “What makes you think you’ll be able to even  _ walk _ after this?” 

Jon groaned, unable to find a good answer with all his focus on keeping himself together. His arms were starting to shake as he held himself up, determined not to collapse even as Blaine bottomed out inside him. His skin felt too hot, too tight, the pleasure of being filled up becoming quickly overwhelming. Blaine’s grip on his hips was the only thing keeping Jon grounded, the rest of his faculties washed away in the waves of pleasure washing over him as Blaine began to draw back and push back in. A whine slipped from Jon’s lips, the sound of it so desperate that Jon nearly collapsed out of pure embarrassment. 

“Cute,” Blaine murmured. Jon’s arms were trembling. “You really want it, huh, pretty boy?” 

Jon groaned out his assent. Without warning, Blaine pulled out of Jon and used his grip on Jon’s hips to flip him onto his back. He again admired the shift of muscle under Jon’s skin. Jon’s biceps flexed unintentionally as he grasped at the sheets. Blaine took his own cock in hand and pushed back into Jon, who tensed and then relaxed. 

“Jon,” Blaine murmured as he perfected the angle of his hips to strike Jon’s prostate, “look at you, all fuckin’ strong and pretty for me. You’ve been working really hard, recently, haven’t you? Climbing and running and lifting? That’s my strong boy,” he sighed out, watching Jon’s face carefully. Jon’s eyes were squeezed shut, both in pleasure and what Blaine knows to be embarrassment. Jon doesn’t always do well with praise so Blaine has to really emphasize it. “You’re so fucking strong, Jon, just look at you,” he said again. 

“Not...as strong as you,” Jon whimpered, suddenly sounding very small. “I’m not good enough.” 

“Stop,” Blaine said sternly, suddenly stilling, the head of his cock just barely inside Jon. “I’m not going to let you talk down on yourself. You are more than good enough, Jon. I mean it.” Blaine ran one big hand over Jon’s abs and up to cup his left pec. “You’ve got a hell of a body, Jon, and I love you so much.” 

Blaine pulled out all the way, understanding that right now making Jon feel good is less about sex and more about affirming his efforts to better himself. He started with a long, languid kiss to Jon’s lips, then several shorter ones trailing across Jon’s right shoulder down to his bicep. He peppered the muscle with kisses and murmured praises that Jon could barely hear over his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Jon squirmed, but Blaine held him fast by his hips as he dragged his tongue over the defined curves of Jon’s pecs, worshipping with his mouth. 

“Blaine-”

“Shhh,” Blaine whispered, “let me show you just how strong you are, and just how good you are.” 


	19. All Filled Up and Overflowing (Jeremy/Geoff/Jack-Double Penetration)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19- Double Penetration!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, I apologize, but it's better than the last for sure. I'm getting back into the groove I think. Hope you enjoy!   
Title from La La Land by Deal Casino.

Geoff sighed deeply, drawing out the exhale into a low whistle. Jack rubbed his thumb over Geoff’s knuckles. Jeremy kissed just below Geoff’s jaw. Geoff knew he was being silly, knew that he wasn’t even the one who could get hurt, but it still made him nervous to try something of this magnitude. 

“Okay,” he started, nervousness apparent in his voice. “Jeremy, are you absolutely sure you wanna do this? 

“Positive. Come on, Geoff. Have I not been asking for this for months now?”

“I know, I know you have. I’m sorry, I just...I don’t want to hurt you.”

Geoff gave him such a look of genuine worry that Jeremy had trouble breathing for a moment. In that moment Jack stepped in, taking Geoff’s face in his hands and meeting his worried eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Jeremy knows his limits, alright? I trust him, and I know you trust him too. And he’ll tell us if it’s too much, won’t he?” He turned to Jeremy, who nodded. “See, it’ll be okay. Don’t worry. 

-

“Come on,” Jeremy grunted out, pushing back on Jack’s thick fingers. “Need both of you, now.” 

“Be patient,” Jack scolded, his voice lower than usual. “If you’re gonna take two cocks, you need to be prepped extra well.”

Jeremy huffed but didn’t argue. All of his energy was focused on holding himself up and not collapsing under the weight of Geoff’s hungry gaze. He kept letting out little grunts that only fed Geoff’s hunger. Jack added a fourth finger, and Jeremy fell back against Jack, who easily steadied him with a quiet laugh. Jeremy growled a “hurry up” to Jack, which earned him a slap to his stomach from Geoff. 

“What the fuck did Jack say about being patient?” 

“Sorry,” Jeremy groaned, not looking at Geoff. “You  _ know _ I’m impatient.” 

Geoff couldn’t help but smile and Jack smiled back easily, the both of them full of fondness for the brat they were so lucky to share. Geoff felt the uneasiness bubble back up for a moment, but a sharp whine from Jeremy as Jack crooked his fingers brought him back down. 

“Shit, Jer, you’re gonna look so good taking both of us,” Jack cooed, “but I need you to promise me you’ll let one of us know if it’s too much, okay?” 

“Promise,” Jeremy whispered, so far gone before the main event even began. 

“Do you think you’re ready?” Geoff asked, voice steady and calm. “It’s okay if you’re not,” he added after a moment, sounding like Jack. 

“Yes,” Jeremy gritted out, followed by a low gasp as Jack pulled out his fingers carefully. Jack fixed him with a stern look. “ _ Please _ .” 

Geoff took it upon himself to get both his and Jack’s cocks adequately lubricated while Jack set Jeremy on his knees where he could be comfortable taking both of them at the same time. Jack’s hands never left Jeremy’s body, not even for a second, grounding him in that moment before they took this new sexual adventure together. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Geoff asked one last time. 

Jeremy scowled and nodded. “I’m fucking sure, Geoff, and if you ask again I’m going to find another pair of dicks to ride, okay?” 

With his cleaner hand, Geoff swatted at Jeremy’s ass. Jack chuckled at the way Jeremy jerked forward but steadied him nonetheless. Situating themselves on either side of Jeremy, Jack and Geoff shared a quick kiss over Jeremy’s shoulder as they readied themselves. 

“If this kills me,” Jeremy remarked, breathless with anticipation as Jack rubbed his cock along the crack of his ass, “I want everyone to know that I died with two dicks up my ass.” 


	20. At Least I Got You In My Head (Chad James-Masturbation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 20- Masturbation!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually don't hate this one! I hope you like it!   
Technically one could category this as Chad/Jon but it isn't really.   
Title from Sleepover by Hayley Kiyoko.

“It’s just your mid-life bisexual crisis,” Jon had told him. “I had mine a couple years ago, Geoff had a small one last year, you’re having yours now. It happens. It’s normal.” 

Chad had felt a little of the weight he had been feeling recently lift when he had talked to Jon. It was reassuring to know that the new feelings he was juggling were not symptoms of some sort of sickness. But talking it through with Jon had some...other side affects. 

-

“Fuck,” Chad whispered through gritted teeth. “C’mon...”

He spit in his hand again, trying to ease the friction of his bare hand on his dick. He knew he shouldn’t have been doing this in the Bungalow A bathroom, but shit, he was desperate. Ever since their conversation, Chad had been fantasizing about Jon. He’d been thinking about Jon teaching him how to give a blowjob, about Jon fucking him in his office while Chris was in a meeting, about letting Jon use him however he wanted. Basically, it was getting bad. And now he was holed up in the bathroom less than 100 feet from Jon, jacking off and imagining Jon pushing him against a wall and wrecking him. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend the hand working roughly over his cock belonged to Jon.

“Oh, god,” Chad let himself moan, momentarily forgetting where he was. He twisted his wrist as he pumped his cock faster. “Jon, please,” he whimpered, then immediately brought his free hand up to clap over his mouth. He was in way too deep.

Chad ran a shaky hand through his hair. He had made this bed, and he couldn’t do anything but lie in it. He couldn’t just go back to work considering how hard he was, but if he finished himself off thinking about Jon, he had bigger problems. He had stopped jacking off when he had let Jon’s name slip, but he wasn’t getting any less hard, so he reluctantly took himself in hand again, now overly aware of how easily he could let something slip out of his mouth in the state he was in. He stroked himself at a slow pace, focusing on breathing evenly and not thinking about Jon. Even so, he kept letting out little whimpers that would clearly draw attention if anyone was too close. Thinking on the fly, he took his wallet from the jeans bunched around his ankles and bit down on it to muffle any sounds he could make. He sped up the rate at which he was stroking his dick again, letting his eyes roll back in his head with the dirty pleasure. 

“Hey Chad?” came Jon’s voice from outside the door.  _ Shit _ . “You good in there?” 

“Ye-yeah,” Chad replied shakily, tearing the wallet from between his teeth a little too fast and knocking his elbow on the wall. “Just taking a dump,” he improvised. “Sometimes, uh, taking the taco will do that to you.”

He heard Jon laugh, the sound a relief but also a reminder of his predicament. “Okay, didn’t need to know that, but glad you’re not dying in there. Don’t forget, all hands meeting in 10.”

“Thanks, Jon,” Chad replied.  _ Well, fuck _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take the taco.


	21. Pour Yourself All Over Me (Chris K./Cole-Size Difference)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 21- Size difference!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My boy Chris Kokkinos deserves more love, read all about it!! But also, Chris and Cole have such a good height difference that I just had to do it.   
This one is very very short and sweet, because the next chapter is a huge one.   
This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful friend RJ, who enables me and is the biggest Cole simp of them all.   
Title from Brand New Moves by Hey Violet.

Just looking at the two of them next to each other, one would assume Cole to be in control between him and Chris, what with his two heads height advantage and his resting smirk. Cole carried himself, lanky limbs and all, with a confidence that Chris didn’t exude to the same extent. Chris didn’t mind this, he didn’t need to be viewed as in control. He just had to be in control where it counted, and he certainly was. 

\---

“Hey pretty boy,” Chris breathed out next to Cole’s ear. “This feel good?”

Cole hummed in assent, face screwed up in pleasure, body trembling under Chris’ smaller form. Chris kept a slow pace as he fucked Cole, the thrusts languid and sweet. Chris draped his body over Cole’s, but, being much smaller, he couldn’t quite reach Cole’s neck so he chose to pepper Cole’s shoulder blades with scratchy kisses. The steady pace was good, so good, making Cole’s knees weak and his arms quiver. The whimper that dropped from Cole’s lips as Chris angled his hips anew was sinful. 

“C’mon, Chris,” Cole whined. His voice was practically dripping with need and desperation. “Faster, please…”

Chris nipped at Cole’s shoulder blade playfully, reveling in the power he had to make Cole ask nicely even as his every instinct instructed him to be a brat. Chris obliged, steadying himself before speeding up, pushing Cole towards orgasm as he retained his firm gentleness with the new speed. The small but solid presence of Chris against his back paired with the white hot heat of Chris fucking into him with careful passion was too much to handle. Cole was shaking apart, his every cell aflame, his every thought of Chris. 

-

“It doesn’t make sense for me to be the big spoon,” Chris insisted, kneeling next to Cole and wiping him down with a cool towel. “I’m significantly smaller than you. It won’t be spooning, it will be...like a piece of cheese that only covers half of the burger.”

Cole snorted, sticking his tongue out at Chris. “So be it.” 

-

Chris was pressed against a half-asleep Cole, his arms wrapped around his lanky lover. 

“Y’know I love you, right?” 

“Huh?”

“You heard me. I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Chris. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, my little spoon.” 


	22. You Were The Prettiest Thing I Ever Stole ( FAHC Michael/RT Core-Crying)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 22-Crying!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all it's almost October...welp. Maybe I'll actually finish??? We don't know.
> 
> Anyway, this is a long one for sure! It's a continuation of chapter 6 and I maybe got a little carried away. There's no real smut, but certainly some threat of it. Minor warning for HEAVY degradation. 
> 
> Listen, I do not know shit about GTA but I'm trying.  
Key in end notes for characters introduced.  
Title from All The Stars In Texas by Ludo. Enjoy!

The first thing Michael was aware of as he regained consciousness was a dull ache in his left thigh. It spread through the muscle, throbbing and deep. When he tried to shift his leg to alleviate the discomfort, he realized with a heavy feeling that his ankles were zip tied. He tried to shift his arms, but as he feared, his wrists were bound too. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. It took a moment to adjust to the dim fluorescent lights, but when he did he saw an unfamiliar and gruff looking man leaning against an ammo crate, cleaning a gun. The man grunted when he saw Michael stirring. 

“The slut’s awake,” the man called out, his bored voice echoing in the spacious warehouse out of which RT Core operated. 

A man with a shock of auburn hair peeking out from under a beanie strolled in first, holding a handgun and followed closely by a dark haired woman clad entirely in red leather. She sneered at Michael. From another area of the warehouse sauntered the man Michael recognized as Sunshine. Back on his home turf, he was dressed down from when Michael had met him, but his bright eyes were the same as ever. He had one arm around the waist of a taller man with chestnut hair and a sniper rifle strapped across his back. Michael wondered dimly if this man was Moonshine. He hoped not. 

Every cell in Michael’s body felt aflame. Of every member of the Fakes, Michael had been caught the fewest times by far. Which was probably for the best, because he didn’t hold up well under pressure in closed quarters. Blowing up a precinct was easy, but interrogation was hell. 

“Well, well, well,” Sunshine sing-songed. “Looks like the little whore is finally awake. Now then, I do believe I promised you a better name to moan if you used your pretty mouth to get me off back at the bar. And you did do that, didn’t you?” Michael nodded mutely. “So let me introduce myself, pretty boy. You can call me Jon, alright? We’re going to get to know each other _ real well_. You’re Core property now, isn’t that right, Chad?”

“Damn right,” Chad, the redheaded man with the handgun, replied. 

It was clear to Michael that Jon was high ranking among RT Core’s ranks, but he knew all too well that he wasn’t the leader. Core all fell to their knees for Burns, a devilish Texan with a reputation of cunning and destruction. Geoff warned the crew frequently to be extremely wary of both Burns and Willems, the dastardly leader of Fakehaus. Though Michael didn’t believe in any higher power, he prayed in this moment not to encounter Burns before he could escape. He refused to believe that the rest of the crew wasn’t working on his escape as he was being held in this hideout. They had to be. 

“Andrew,” Jon barked, turning to the man who had been guarding Michael while he was unconscious. “Call everyone who’s here in, I want everyone to see this little brat get what he has coming to him.”

“Yessir,” Andrew replied obediently. He pulled a hand radio up to his mouth. “Code F1, crew to main bay.” 

“Little Michael. Ramsey’s favorite firecracker. What are we going to do with you?” Jon sneered, looking Michael over with a vicious sort of hunger. 

Michael focused on his own feet, refusing to give Jon the satisfaction of seeing his eyes. However, his gaze was drawn to the sizable dark spot on his blue jeans, covering the area where he could still feel the same ache as when he first awoke. Of course. He’d suffered stab wounds before, this not being among the worst. He could handle it, yes, but he had really liked this pair of jeans. 

“So this is the new toy you brought me?” A new voice broke the silence of the warehouse. There was a definite Texas twang to it. Michael’s heart sank into his stomach. “Hm. Not bad. He looks feisty, but I’m sure I can break him and make him easy to use. Is that right?” 

“Have some respect,” hissed a second new voice. “Look at your new owner when he speaks to you. _ Now_.” 

Michael raised his gaze slightly, taking in the heavy leather boots and muddy sneakers of the two new men. With dread a solid weight in his stomach, he looked fully at them. He immediately recognized the first man, tall and stocky with short dark curls and an air of importance, as Burns. Oh, he was beyond fucked. The second man, around the same height as Burns but with ever so slightly gentler, if not sadder, features, looked familiar to Michael but not enough that he could put a name to the face. 

“Fuck you,” Michael hissed. “I’m not sticking around, you _ cunts_,” he snarled, full of vitriol.

“Oh, sweet little Michael,” Burns cooed. “You think you’re getting saved, do you?” 

The mockingly sweet way these men treated him made Michael seethe. “I don’t think so, I fuckin’ _know _ so.” 

“Precious,” the man next to Burns commented. “He’s a fighter. Better than the spineless little thing Barb brought in last week.”

An indignant sound came from Michael’s left side and he turned to see two new figures who had come in after Andrew had sent out the signal. The one he assumed to be Barbara was menacing in tall black boots and a burgundy leather jacket, with leather holsters at both thighs and a wicked smile. She was accompanied by a muscular man in skin tight jeans and a muscle tee. Michael recognized him from past run-ins but didn’t know his name. He didn’t smile. 

“Look at me,” Burns snapped, low and dangerous. Michael obeyed without thinking, some part of him actually registering fear in spite of himself. He tried to look defiant even as he did so, but there was a tinge of terror underneath it. “You belong to me, now, and I’m going to _ ruin _ you. I’m gonna break you and make you useful, understand? You’re gonna be Core’s new fucktoy.” 

Michael swallowed around the lump in his throat, still trying to keep up the appearance of insolence. “I will _ not_. I’m going to leave and I’ll come back just to burn this place to the ground.” 

“No,” Burns retorted without hesitation, “you won’t, _ sweetheart_. Because no one is coming to save you. They don’t care about you, Michael.” 

Michael felt angry tears start to form in the corners of his eyes. They _ did _care about him. The Fakes were his family. They cared about him more than anyone to whom he was actually related. They wouldn’t leave him to die. 

“Fuck you,” Michael spit, but it was weaker. 

“What, you don’t get fucked enough?” Jon asked. Michael snarled. “Michael, Michael, Michael. Don’t think we don’t know.” Jon sounded far too smug. “Everyone knows Ramsey only keeps you around because you’re a good fuck. But I bet he’s not coming to get you because he’s decided you’re not good enough anymore. Don’t worry, little Michael. We’ll make sure you’re always getting used.” 

“That’s right, Jon,” Burns said with a sickening grin. Michael squirmed but he knew he wasn’t getting anywhere. “Heists are stressful, but having a easy little slut to calm us down will be so nice. You'll be much more useful for that than you ever were for Ramsey.”

As hard as he was trying to be insolent, something about what Burns had just said crossed a line for Michael. A dam broke inside him, letting free a wild flood of emotions that overflowed instantly. Tears spilled hot and fast down Michael’s cherubic cheeks. He was biting his lips, holding his breath, trying to keep in the sobs, but they came anyway, loud and desperate, childish. He sniffled and wailed, not at all the proud, chaos-driven demolitions expert he had been mere minutes ago.

“Huh,” Jon sneered, “Ramsey’s little cockslut is a crybaby, too. I bet you cry while you get fucked, don’t you?”

“N-no…” Michael blubbered, all semblance of dignity or control having slipped away. His lower lip quivered pitifully. Burns leered at him. 

“You do, don’t you? Pathetic. So, will you cry when I use you? Will you-” 

A huge crash interrupted Burns’ voice, followed by gunshots. 

“Everybody on the fucking ground!” 

Michael’s heart skipped a beat. The others scattered, safe for Burns, who stood his ground. He seemed thoroughly unimpressed by the sight of Rimmy Tim with a rocket launcher resting on his shoulder. From behind him stepped Geoff, whose voice had cleared the rest of the room, dressed to kill and intending to do just that. He holstered his pistol, glaring at Burns. 

“Give me back my boy,” he growled, stepping in front of Jeremy to get to Michael. He pulled a butterfly knife from the inside of his jacket, flipping it open and beginning to cut Michael free. 

“Your boy, Ramsey?” Burns laughed mirthlessly. “No no, little crybaby Michael is ours now.” 

Michael, freed of his restraints, stumbled over to Jeremy, the pain in his leg suddenly overwhelming. Jeremy steadied him, his eyes dark with a storm with worry and anger. Geoff looked back at them. Michael’s eyes were puffy and his wrists were raw from the zip ties. He leaned heavily against Jeremy’s shoulder. Geoff’s concern turned quickly to rage. 

“Go home,” he ordered. Jeremy nodded solemnly, strapping his weapon behind his back and shifting to support Michael. “I have unfinished business here.” Geoff glared at Burns, who glared back. “But don’t worry,” Geoff added, “I’ll be home for dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters introduced:  
Gruff man: Andrew Rosas  
Auburn hair: Chad James  
Red leather: Mariel Salcedo  
Sunshine: Jon Risinger  
Moonshine: Miles Luna  
Burns: Burnie Burns  
Man with Burns: Gus Sorola  
Barb: Barbara Dunkelman  
Muscular man: Blaine Gibson  
Hope you enjoyed!


	23. Take The Collar Off Baby (Chris D./Blaine-Collaring)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 23-Collaring!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame the whole Clayton bit on OTS for this. Also my dearest friend RJ, who is a Chris simp through and through.  
Just a short and sweet chapter.   
Title from Big Cat by Wild Beasts (which is a fucking great song by the way).  
Enjoy!

Like everything else, it had started at work. The whole Clayton bit for _ On The Spot _ was well loved and the shock collar bit was all in good fun. Hell, it had even paved the way for _ Good Morning From Hell_. But it was a little more complicated than that. Chris could tolerate the pain easily enough, that wasn’t the issue. It was just that he found himself liking it a little too much. Every little jolt made his heart jump into his throat with exhilaration. It scratched an itch that he hadn’t known had been dormant under his skin. He found himself craving the shocks at the worst times, when he was in crunch time for scripts, when he woke in the middle of the night, when he was driving home from work. When Extralife rolled around, Chris’ heart leapt at the opportunity to don the shock collar again. He tried to rationalize this excitement, explaining to himself that he just knew that the bit would bring in tons of donations and thus he was eager to do it for charity reasons. 

That was until Blaine strapped the collar onto him backstage of the stream, giving him no warning before issuing a test shock. Chris nearly jumped out of his skin, the surprise followed by the setting in of that nasty need that he had for Blaine to do it again and again until he melted. This was more than just eagerness to do something good, this was the unmistakable connection between the shock collar and a deeper hunger to be used and humiliated. He swallowed this realization and got ready for the stream. 

-

“Chris, are you alive over there?” Blaine asked, now scrubbed clean of his Clayton makeup, left with just touches of red in the creases next to his eyes. Chris seemed far away, sitting on a beanbag chair backstage with his head tipped back, staring at nothing. 

“Huh? What? Uh yeah, just a little...out of it. Those shocks really take it out of me, I think.” 

Blaine smiled easily at Chris, his eyes crinkling kindly. “Let me go get you some water and something to eat, you look like you need it.” He started to walk away.

“Wait!” Chris exclaimed, sitting up shakily. Blaine looked back at him quizzically. “I, uh, I wanna come with you. There’s...something we need to talk about.” 

-

“_Fuck_,” Chris gritted out, slumping back against the pillows after the wondrous jolt disappeared as quickly as it had come. “_Again_.” 

Blaine let out a breathless laugh. “Okay, okay, just be patient, don’t wanna hurt you.” He pressed the little button on the remote again and watched Chris arch his back, his eyes squeezed shut. Blaine could tell Chris was so turned on he was quickly forgetting how to think, which was quite a good look on him. “Hey, look at me.” 

“Hm?” Chris opened his eyes, blinking to clear away the tears. He looked so wonderfully vulnerable. “S’everything okay?” 

“Just wanted to remind you I love you.” His thumb was poised above the shock button. “I love you t–_f__uck_!”


End file.
